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    1. Empress 8 yrs ago

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Likewise very much a WIP...and I agree with Publius. The simulation numbers are important, but I'd perhaps like a description of the capital/important locations and some key characters too :) .

Oh, I am such a sucker for NRPs...consider me interested indeed.


With @Saber :) .

Rose watched the woman examining herself, a standard for those who had suffered such an ill fate. A slight smile touched at the edges of her lips, a standard for the Guide observing the confusion. A question was put forth, rather loudly, to a god that certainly had no ears for plighted mortals.

Hey, kiddo," Rose said, her strange accent ringing out over the formerly placid field, taking small hops from the Egress' steps and into the grass. She allowed herself to acknowledge the pleasure of physical feeling, as she strode toward the Queen. "What's goin' on is exactly why ya here. It's a pretty heavy scenario, so I hope ya don't mind listenin' a bit to ya humble Guide before I send ya on your way." She slid her hands easily into the pocket of her hoodie, lacing her fingers together.

"Name's Rose, Queen, and I'm here to answer the kinda questions ya just asked." Her left hand freed its self and pointed lazily at the Pariah Dream. "Take a breather, first, though, and try to collect yaself. Sometimes Dreams ain't too keen on hearin' answers, or even talkin' with me."

Aurelia’s eyes were sharp and her ears keen – a curse, in the busy, dinning city, far more than it was ever a blessing – so how had she missed the ragtag figure loping – bounding – towards her? And that voice! It careered around the place like a drunken Springan, all stops and halts in one place and then a languid drawl in another, calling to mind everything from a hawking Graeline fishwife one moment to the most laissez-faire of Springan aristocracy the next and, to round it off, all points in between.

Then again, she’d been gutted like a fish, which might explain the lapse. Dying was, surely, an acceptable excuse – even if she currently appeared to be hale and whole. Appeared being the operative word.

Her brain processed the woman’s actual words a poor second, and for a few moments her mouth hung open dumbly. It’d been years since anyone called her ‘kiddo’.

She paused, shut her mouth with a faint click of enamel, and took a few breaths, although it wasn’t for the reason that Rose had encouraged her, oh no. Aurelia had been taught as a child to take ten deep, calming breaths whenever she was angry. The logic – or, more accurately, hope – seemed to be that this small pause would help defuse tensions and feelings running hot.

In Aurelia’s case, it generally served as a pressure-cooker instead.

Oh no. No no no.” Her eyes flashed as she stood up and marched closer to the Guide. “Nobody-” she jabbed the air for emphasis “-gets to babble on about mysterious happenings and then tell me to lie back and smell the flowers! I would like answers, if you please. Somebody-” and now her expressive, soaring voice was a sibilant, venomous hiss “-tried to kill me, which sent me to wherever the devil this is. I want to know who and I want to know why and I promise you this, 'Rose Queen', I’ll see them ruined for it. And in the meantime-” her voice was suddenly bright and airy again, as though nothing had happened “-I would very much like to know where here is, and how I got here.

Rose shrugged, unphased by the Dream's outburst. It wasn't uncommon for reactions like this to be at the forefront when someone was confused or uncertain. However, the Guide felt it might be a little more than just confusion. Seemed like she was dealing with a silver-spoon type.

"I do," she said, as though the fact were plain as the pleasant day that surrounded them, "and if ya wanna get your answers in proper fashion, I suggest ya take my advice. Yellin' ain't gonna help nobody, let alone you. Also, ya got it wrong. I'm Rose. You're 'Queen', and since ya forgot ya manners, I'ma keep calling you that." She removed her free hand and pointed it at the girl, who had hastily approached her. "You'll have ya chance to ruin what did ya in, but that's a long ways off and ya got a long road between them and you. Not a road without hurdles, mind ya. 'Queen' is ya title. 'Queen of Gates', more specifically. Don't bother askin', Pariah Dreams are supposed to figure out their powers on their own."

The Guide shifted on her heels, her slightly moist sandals squeaking as she did so, looking the girl up and down; admiring the arrogance she brought with her. She hoped the girl was a quick learner. That kind of talk wouldn't fly with most of the other creatures in Navain. Still, she gave her best smile and did her job,

"This place, here, is Navain. Not the field, the world." Aware of the conversations that had taken place previously, Rose was somewhat hesitant to provide the same line again; but would do so nonetheless...spurred on by the surprisingly pleasant shift in tone from the girl. "That big ol' monstrosity is the Hollow Egress, and it's where ya gonna be meeting the others like you, and doin' a favor for me." Letting it linger for a bare moment, she continued. "That is, if you wanna make it home."

Rose relaxed, stretching her arms upward and spreading her feet apart; letting loose a near-squeaking yawn. "Ya death ain't got nothin' to do with anyone from your world. What offed ya was what I like to call a Slaughter Doll, a sort of incorporeal assassin designed to infiltrate Corporeal Realities and end the life of those that have a Corrupted Fate Kernel." She felt Aurelia would ask a question about that, so lifted her hand in a half-plea for silence. "I can't tell ya about any more of that. S'forbidden to me by the orders Scribe gave me. The others and yaself will get a lot more info, once you do this favor for me."

Contemplation colored her already dark features. "Explainin' what Navain is would take a long time, but I can tell ya how ya got here...aside, uh, y'know, from being murdered. I ain't have nothin' to do with that, by the way." Her smile returned. "Ya got here through translocation between your Corporeal Reality and the Layered Reality ya standin' in, now. The process its self is pretty interesting, but, again...can't tell ya."

She bit down on her knuckle, and spoke around it.

"Anyone ever tell ya that you've got a real temper...uh....what's ya name, again?"

"Aurelia," she replied calmly. "Aurelia Campbell-Ross-" a flash of a white-toothed smile "-at your service, I suppose." She took a half-step back on the dew-laden grass, moving from an imminent attack range to something much more approaching a normal distance for conversation. Even so, she wasn’t about to let the girl’s less-complimentary remarks go without comment, which she supplied with a raised finger and a wry little grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. She did so love a good debate – even in such strange circumstances.

For the record, yelling – which I wasn’t doing, by the by, I’m capable of far greater volume – does help. It helps me, particularly in the absence of anything conveniently breakable nearby. I have been plucked out of what had been shaping up to be a very pleasant evening by some creature I’m sure came from the mind of the more twisted sort of horror novelist – a Slaughter Doll, you said? – chased to within an inch of my life, opened up from groin to gullet and then dumped here! Exercising my entirely understandable-” her eyes dared Rose to disagree “-feelings with a brief – brief! – rant is a far safer way of dealing with things than going quietly mad or bursting into tears. Both of which are Not On.” The capitals slid neatly into place, and Aurelia took another deep breath, compressing her rage still further, suddenly smiling a bright smile that, quite on purpose, didn’t reach her eyes.

But. I shall always strive to be irenic, despite base accusations regarding my temper.” She held out a hand. “A pleasure, I’m sure, Rose.

More words poured forth from the girl – in that whipsawing voice – but whilst Aurelia understood them individually, and whilst she wasn’t thick, she also found herself all at sea with some of the more significant phrases.

I’m sorry – Pariah Dreams? Corrupted Reality? Titles? Powers?” She shook her head helplessly. “I understand the words individually, but together…” her voice tailed off, and again that wry smirk twisted her lips even before the Guide could reply. “Let me guess. You can’t tell me that either. Very well, very well; you’re a messenger by your own admission, and it would be unfair for me to vent my spleen as I might like.

She regarded Rose for a moment, eyes dancing over her form, noting every bit of it, inspecting and scrutinizing and trying to catalogue. “You said there were others. Ergo, you’ve done this before. Allow me to ask, then – if you were in my position, and – knowing what you yourself do, and what you can tell me – what question should I be asking? What will be most helpful?

Rose removed her hood, revealing her visage in full. Almond shaped green eyes stared out, half-lidded and touched with the dark rings of sleeplessness. Her nose was straight, and a bit long, sitting above full lips that bore a light pink tinge to them; though it did not seem to be any form of makeup. Her face was gaunt, but not so much so to imply sickness; accented well by her angular features. Pink hair, seemingly straight, came cascading down when the hood was removed. Where it had framed her face before, it now surrounded it in a mane of unruly curls and gentle slopes. She ran a hand through her hair, mussing it with some vigor and gave a big smile to Aurelia.

"Well, then, s'nice to meet ya Aurelia," Rose smiled slightly, bringing a knuckle to her lips to lightly suck on it before applying pressure, "and ohohoho, no worries, I'm sure ya can get louder if ya need to. And yeah, a Slaughter Doll. They tend to play around with their victims, before finishin' 'em off. Don't take it too personal. It was a necessary event, as bad as it mighta been for ya," She contemplated the brutal nature of the Dolls, briefly, and imagined Aurelia running for her life from an enemy she couldn't yet hope to contend with. Smiling more broadly, she reached forward to put a hand of the woman's shoulder, attempting to provide some comfort; though she fully expected the Queen of Gates to react with venom. Sometimes Rose found it hard to help, but helping, sure as all the realms that constituted the idea of hell, was not her real job. Helping was more of a passion. The Dreams that came before her were certainly in need of guidance, and that is damn well what she planned to do. Letting Aurelia vent was only a small part of that.

"Look, kiddo, m'sorry ya night got ruined and ya ended up, here, but that ain't even remotely important to what ya gonna be doin'. And if ya that mad about me sayin' something about ya demeanor, I can only hope the others are gonna be super nice to ya." Giggling, the Guide stepped back, taking the offered hand and giving it an acceptable shake; lest she damage the girl.

"Yeah, though, the terms. I can only tell ya a little, given my P.R.P outline; so I'll do ya a solid. Pariah Dreams. Prime Entities with a Corrupted Fate Kernel are usually subjected to the scrutiny of a Scribe, who ya prolly will get to meet later; Scribe's kinda like...uh, my boss. We'll talk about that if ya make it through the Egress. It chooses the Prime Entities to inhert their Anchors and allows 'em a Manifestation. " She shifted on the balls of her feet. "Bein' in your position..." A muted sorrow flickered through the Guide. "I, uh, I dunno what to tell ya, Aurelia...I've been here before, just like you. But that's, uh, that's...that's somethin' I'll tell ya later. Ok? I promise."

Shifting, again, she regained her focus. "If I was you, I'd be asking what it'd take to get home. To get out of this place. I'd be askin' a lotta things. Unfortunately, the only one I can answer is how ya get home. Once ya get your Anchor, I can give ya that chance. I can't say how, but I can tell ya that...you'll be comin' back here, like it or not."

Rose's lips turned downward.

"Right now, though, the most important question is whether or not ya gonna go into the Hollow Egress. It's ya choice, Queen of Gates. Ya can join the other Dreams, or ya can live out ya days here...in Navain."

Of course my date wasn’t important, in the grand scheme of things!” Aurelia exclaimed. “Almost nothing is. I’d never met her before that evening, anyway, and there are always more in Clubland, any day night of the week. Doesn’t mean I’m not cut up about it. As for my demeanour…” unconsciously, every muscle in Aurelia’s body tensed, singing like wires against her bones, an almost electrical crackle running across her skin.

People will be prejudiced,” she answered with a nonchalant shrug that fooled no-one. “Yes, my family has money and influence, and so do I, and yes I went to a good school and a fine university. But where does that give anyone the right to go: ‘Oh look, there goes the posh bitch, thinks she’s so much better than us with her stuck-up accent and her pretty clothes and her education. Got her job because Daddy owns the company, or because she opens her legs for every executive who comes sniffing round for a bit of posh totty.’ If I were so rude, if I claimed that anyone with a Docklands accent was an idiot thug with their brains in their biceps and not fit for anything more than carrying crates and fucking whores behind them, it wouldn’t be tolerated for a second, but the wealthy and the well-bred are acceptable targets, these days.” There was a flash of hurt there, dark and deep in Aurelia’s eyes. This was a topic she’d revisited many times.

I might think your accent, which I can’t place for the life of me, is grating and your manner annoying – indeed, I’ve just told you so - but you won’t find me expecting you to change it as though it’s my due to shape and mould you, and to cut off all the bits I don’t like.

Another smile, and the singing tension left as abruptly as it arrived. Aurelia even allowed the touch on her shoulder with nothing more than a brief shiver. “I’ll hold you to your promises, even though you’ve given me a Hobson’s choice there. My life was good – not perfect, no-one’s is – but good, and I rather liked it. Of course,” she added, suddenly distracted and whimsical “I never had anything to compare it to. Never been anything but a Campbell-Ross, with all that entails.

She shook herself, visibly. “Which is to say, I need to return. I have everything for me at home and nothing in this Navain place, and if the way to pass between one and the other is through this Hollow Egress, then through it I’m going – with or without your other Dreams.

Some people miss the point. Rose was guilty of it, from time to time, at least when it came to interactions with Prime Entities. "Ya definitely need to relax Aurelia. But, hey, ya basically said it. It ain't my place to go on about how you act." She considered taking offense to what the Pariah Dream had said, both about her accent and attitude, but Rose couldn't find it in herself to do so. She had always been like that, trying her best to maintain a laid-back attitude and casual way of talking. If the new Dream didn't like it, that solely fell into the purview of her problems. However, it did make her feel...something, though the certainty of that feeling was entirely nebulous. Perhaps something akin to admiration...or the uncomfortable caress of someone's dislike.

The girl had guts, that was for sure. Rose wondered about the pain in Aurelia's eyes, and the vitriolic near-outburst. She wanted to press, to attempt to understand the girl a bit better; but now wasn't the time, and it sure didn't seem like the mood was right for a friendly extension from the Guide. She doubted, distantly, that the two of them would be anything close to friends, anyway. A thought that, for some reason, saddened her. A Guide was supposed to be able to assist their Dreams in any way necessary...in any way she could.

With a sigh, she continued.

"Thems the breaks, kiddo. Sorry to put ya in a situation like that, with the choice n'all. If it were up to me, you and the other Dreams would be livin' ya lives like nothin' was wrong." It was true, but Rose certainly didn't have any say in the matter. "No worries, though, Aurelia, my promises are as good as gold. I promise." She gave a wink and a smile, stepping away from the girl and making slow steps back toward the Egress. "I'll do what I can to get ya back there, but don't think ya can go it alone. I dunno much about ya, but I can let ya know that this ain't the kind of place ya can run lone wolf and expect to make it outta most situations. Beings that can do that are pretty rare. Not to put ya down or nothin', but Aurelia; ya weak, in terms of ya Manifestation. Ya weak in terms of ya essence. Those things might change, if ya can manage to survive long enough to make it out of the Hollow Egress without having your existence stolen or your 'current' body destroyed."

She met Aurelia's gaze evenly, the arabesque depths of her odd iris digging into the haughty girl.

"The Pariah Dreams are a team for a reason. If one Prime Entity could deal with all the problems on the horizon, there wouldn't be any need to draw out seven of ya. I'm glad ya got the drive to make it back, Queen. I'll be here to help, if ya think ya need it." Her demeanor had changed, a little, to the observant. While she maintained her smile, it felt like a facade. For some reason, she felt that Aurelia was in more danger than the others. As though she would make herself a target in one way or another.

"But, yeah, do what ya gotta do. Once ya pass that doorway, we won't talk again for a while. I'm sure that suits ya just fine. So, yeah, that's that." Her mouth opened slightly, but no words escaped. Instead, Rose shrugged. "I hope ya do good."

And on that happy note,” Aurelia remarked slightly acidly, “I had best be off to face this latest twist in the skein of destiny. I see no-one else around, and I daresay it'll only get worse the longer I dither. My thanks for what help you were able to give. See you on the other side of the madness.

Squaring her shoulders, gathering her hauteur around her like an empress’ train or a knight-paladin’s armour, Aurelia resolutely turned away from the Guide and towards the eye-sucking wrongness of the Egress itself, her steps quick and sure, rapidly vanishing into its fractal geometries.

Advanced is fine by me, and I should certainly be able to manage at least a post a week :) .
This sounds very interesting indeed; I do hope it's still open!
Sounds fun! Colour me interested :) .
Ooh...this sounds jolly interesting! I shall be keeping an eye on this.
Contained Corporeal Reality Shard 019.
New Graeline City, Palatine Heights.
Aurelia Campbell-Ross.


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Aurelia’s evening had begun so well. The Heights, her natural stomping ground, had more than their fair share of refined entertainments and gourmet cuisine fit to sate even the most jaded of palates, and if one desired something a little earthier, a little more raucous, a little closer to the thrum of a racing heart, well, then there was the Emerald Triangle and its nebulous, encircling belt of nightclubs, bars, pleasure arcades and much else besides that made up the city’s unofficial Clubland.

Aurelia Campbell-Ross was no stranger to these entertainments, and there was always something subtly seductive about the siren call of an anonymous night in Clubland, where the throb of the music matched the pounding heartbeat, the lights dazzled and the whole clientele were given over to the pursuit of their own pleasure. Right there and then, in the sweaty, sticky, alcohol-fuelled moment, nobody cared who Aurelia Campbell-Ross was, except as a pretty prospect for further…cavorting…down the line.

It was liberating.

After a long day of work, all power-suits and tablets and endless meetings, there was something very attractive about stepping out of her razor-sharp professional tailoring and into the lighter, stretchier embrace of her party frocks.

The security and staff of Elysium Tower – one of the most imposing of the cluster of needle-pointed skyscrapers that dominated the Palatine Heights, and her home in the city - were colossally well-paid, and as a consequence, loyal and discreet. Self-effacing almost to the point of becoming furniture, and turning well-trained blind eyes to the actions of the building’s inhabitants, they were trusted enough that the DPG stashed visiting VIPs in the Tower, secure in the knowledge that any little personal foibles would be discreetly attended to, without anyone in the outside world being the wiser. Given the sorts of things they must have seen over the years, then, it was hardly surprising they didn’t bat an eyelid at her occasional habit of slumming it, and had always proved most adept at quietly ensuring her date for the evening had been tidied neatly away before she returned the next day.

Young, attractive – if not beautiful – and with money to burn, Aurelia had drunk and danced and flirted her way through several of the city’s finer entertaining establishments, following her usual spiral out from the needle of the Tower that was her home. She’d acquired a fiery redhead on her arm, too, all milk-pale skin and bright green eyes and an explosive, startled – and startling – laugh which regularly split the air as they went from restaurant to bar and then to club whilst the sky darkened into night and the jewelled spires of the city’s skyscrapers lit up for their evening extravaganza.

And then it had all started to go wrong. They’d been in one of the many squares that dotted the Heights, this one framed by ornamental cherry trees in pleached array and with an illuminated fountain in its centre, laughing and talking and the both of them turning their thoughts to stickier things when it appeared, sliding into view from the sparse shadows between two of the glittering skyscraper titans.

At first, neither of them had paid it much mind; from a distance it had been no more than a shadow, strangely proportioned – no doubt due to the innumerable lights in the plaza – but as it drew closer and attracted the eye, the wrongness of its motion had bled through into Aurelia’s consciousness and demanded her attention.

Perhaps it was simple paranoia that came from being one of the Campbell-Ross clan, but Aurelia had a sudden, sharp, obscenely incontrovertible impression that it was here for her. Turning to her companion du nuit, she kept her voice calm and unworried, giving no sign of her sudden, sharp-edged concern.

I smell malatang,” she remarked with a winning smile that only those who knew her well – which did not include her current companion – would recognize as false. “And I’m starving. Be a sweetheart and go get some, would you?” She fished some cash out of her pocket even as she spoke, directing her lovely redhead towards the street vendor’s discreet stall some way away – and out of the direct path of whatever it was that was coming.

To forestall any objection about separating – even for a few moments – she smiled again, this time with just a soupcon of embarrassment. “Call of nature,” she explained, and her date’s eyes lit with understanding.

Thus disengaged, Aurelia assessed her options quickly, hearing her heartbeat pound in her ears.

Cloaked in shadow, the thing’s loping stride had covered much of the plaza’s glittering expanse already, and whilst at first – particularly to a slightly drink-mazed eye – it had appeared as nothing more than a tall, slender man in a heavy greatcoat – as it drew closer she realised with another crystal-cold shock that it wasn’t – couldn’t be – human. Too long, too thin, moving with a serpentine grace that nothing on two legs had.

The important thing,’ she thought wildly to herself, amid the screaming internal cacophony, ‘Is not to panic!’ And yet she was panicking; fear rolled off the thing pursuing her – and it was pursuing her; its course had altered in a lazy curve the moment she’d peeled off from her companion – in almost palpable waves.

People, that was what she needed, and lots of them. Bright lights, cameras, recording devices, the police – anything that made something stand out. Which was a shame, because she’d picked this particular square for its lack of all of those. Good for a spot of romance – or something that looked like it in poor light - much less so for drawing attention.

Fuck.

Elysium Tower had security, it was true, and – if she could get to it – the advantage of a half-mile vertical rise, but getting to it was indeed the problem; she’d ranged far from home by this point. There would be no mad dash back to its safety.

Fuck.

Aurelia was no athlete – she’d always much preferred reading a book to pounding round a track, or else luxuriating in a whirlpool bath instead of endless, repetitive lengths of a pool – but she wasn’t grossly out of shape, either, and fear lent fire to her muscles as, from a leisurely strolling start, she stretched into a full sprint. Sure enough, the thing followed her, sinuously drawing closer with every coiling, leaping bound, flitting from shadow to light-drinking black glass to covered doorway almost without crossing the intervening distance.

She caught glimpses of it as she ran, reflecting in the polished glass and metal of the buildings on either side. A stretched-out creature, all interlocking segments that joined together in ways that made her head hurt and pulsed with a wavering tyrian light like an impossible heartbeat. Its skin – if skin was the right word – was volcanic glass, or something like it, warped by incredible heat. Its forearms curved smoothly into sabres of that same stuff, and it raised them with wicked intent as it came, utterly silent.

Aurelia winced. She knew just how sharp an obsidian edge could be – until recently, the very best surgical blades had been obsidian.
She had no breath left to call out, and focused all her remaining energy on the chase. A swift zigzag took her down a side-street – empty at this time of night, but a shortcut that would shave precious seconds off her pell-mell flight to the bright lights of the city centre and the police HQ there.

The white wedding-cake of Serenity Memorial flashed past, just visible in the gaps between the buildings, and Aurelia could hear the sweet sound of crowds and the authoritative wail of sirens in the near distance, drawing closer with every frantic, pounding step.
A wild smile cut itself across her face, and then died a-borning as, rising from the shadows, the air itself erupting into solidity, the thing which had chased her, toyed with her made itself manifest once more.

She half-turned, sudden and desperate, her fear-filled scream fazing the creature not one bit, and as she turned it reached out one glittering sabred forearm and opened her up down to her spine, a long slash which cut from hip to shoulder and spilt her guts, her lifeblood and shattered fragments of bone out onto the street with a contemptuous flick.

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Layered Reality ???
Hollow Egress, Navain.


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Warmth. That was the first thing that she registered, swimming back to consciousness from whatever hadean limbo she’d existed in. Warmth and light, welcome against her skin and sending a red-orange glow through her closed eyelids.

Her sensitive nose twitched as she took in a first, disbelieving breath and was assailed by all the smells of summer – warm grass, the perfume of flowers and that indefinable scent of the season itself.

Which was, plainly, impossible. It had been night, for one, the last she remembered, and that thing had come upon her in the middle of the city, far from any sources of grass or flowers.

Aurelia sat bolt upright and scrabbled at her clothes, heedless of the damage as fingers ripped and tore and found, beneath the fabric, hale, whole, utterly unmarked skin. She stared in disbelief at it, and then deliberately took her pulse, finding it hammering reassuringly away.

Just as it always had – albeit usually more slowly.

What in god’s name is going on?” she asked herself plaintively, her clear tones cutting through the background drone of busy insects.
I have had exams and have just finished; I'm going to be catching up now :) .
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